Private Selfies - Episode 7

Lara Cole runs a late-night live stream. She sits in a velvet armchair, legs crossed, dress riding high, scrolling through the night’s submissions on a sleek tablet. One by one she reads aloud, voice low, lingering over each new picture. The camera drifts to her free hand, fingers drumming, then sliding absent-minded along the inside of her thigh as another girl’s bare breasts flash on-screen. She pauses, tilts the tablet so the viewers catch the full view, nipples stiff from a cold window frame, panties tugged just low enough to show a trimmed landing strip. “She looks sweet,” Lara murmurs, thumb swiping to the next frame, a girl bent over the hood of her car, skirt bunched at her waist, ass glistening from fresh lotion. Lara exhales through parted lips, tongue grazing her lower lip. She leans closer, the neckline of her dress dips, lace bra flashing. She tells the camera how she likes the bold ones, how she likes a pretty cunt flushed pink from attention. The room stays hushed except for the soft click of each new image and Lara’s measured breathing. Her fingertips stay busy, tracing slow circles along her own thigh now, silk dress bunched in her fist, the fabric pulled taut over the curve of her hip, the slick warmth between her legs pressing hard against thin panties. She saves a favorite, legs uncrossing, then recrossing the other way, the motion deliberate, letting the lens drop a quick glance at the damp spot blooming against her underwear. The next photo arrives: two girls kissing on a rooftop, sunlight streaking across wet tongues and parted thighs. Lara smiles, teeth pressing softly into her lip, thumb already flicking to the comments as she settles deeper into the velvet, ready for more.